Surrender To Love
by surrender2love
Summary: It has been eight years since the downfall of the Dark Lord. After losing everything, Ron has to learn to live life again and surrender to love. This is an alt universe story. It is my first fanfic and I have no beta so I apologize in advance for any errors. Please read and review. Rated M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1. Prologue.**

**November 25, 2004.**

It had been eight years since the downfall of the Dark Lord. In those eight years, there was peace in the Magical world. Death Eaters had been captured and sent to Azkaban. Everyone had begun to feel safe again. The Ministry was rebuilt. Doors were left unlocked and hardly anyone used wards around their homes anymore.

No one anticipated another battle; the rise of a new 'Dark Wizard'. He was not like Voldemort. He did not believe in pureblood status or better blood. No. He wanted control. Control of the Ministry. Control of the Wizarding World. Control of the Muggle World. Control of everyone and everything. For the past six months, the Auror Department, along with the Order of the Phoenix, had been battling this new Dark Wizard and his followers. Minister Kingsley called in favors with ministires from around the world for assistance from their Auror Departments. Those ministries spared who they could.

Now, here they were. The end of the battle. The Dark Wizard captured and sentenced to Azkaban. The death toll was high on both sides. Loved ones were lost. Family. Friends. Mothers. Fathers. Wives. Husbands. All taken without a chance for goodbye.

Senior Director Auror, Harry Potter, and Assistant Director Auror, Ronald Weasley, were tired, bloody and bruised. So much had happen that day in so little time, that it made it difficult for them to think clearly. As they stood, they thought about all they had lost that day. Everyone that was now gone. Tears welled up in their eyes. Ron let out a loud wretched scream from the pit of his stomach and fell to his knees; his hands pulling at his hair. Harry stood by him; his hand on his shoulder, quietly, and let him sob.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2. **

**Monday, January 19, 2007**

As Ron walked through the white oak double doors, he was still trying to process what he was doing here. Why had he come? What made him think this was a good idea or that it would work?

He walked up to the oversized empty desk in the middle of the grand foyer. As he stared at the bell, he contemplated turning around and leaving. No one had seen him yet. No one would ever know he was even here.

"May I help you?"

Too late.

"Um…yeah…yes. Ron. Ronald Weasley checking in."

"Court ordered?"

"Huh?"

"Is this a court ordered or self check-in?"

"Oh. Self check-in."

"Alright. I have some forms I need you to fill in."

The young woman handed Ron a stack of about ten pages worth of paperwork to fill in.

"If you'll follow me please."

Ron picked his rucsack up off the floor and swung it over his shoulder. He had packed light figuring he wouldn't need much while he was here; just a couple of changes of clothes and a few family photos.

As Ron followed the young woman, he couldn't help but notice the sound her heels made as she walked across the hard wood floors. It was an annoying sound, really. Like someone scratching their fingernails down a chalk board. Her hair was long and straight, and pulled back into a high ponytail at the top of her head. She looked about 5'6"; petite frame and couldn't be much older than him.

"My name is Ms. Stevenson. I am the Administrative Assistant to Dr. Phillips, the head psychiatrist on staff. In here please."

Ms. Stevenson had led Ron into a small office. There was a small wood desk in the center of the room. Bookshelves lined all three walls and were filled from top to bottom. There was one large window just behind the desk. Through it, Ron could see a rather large garden with benches, picnic tables, huge trees that gave shade for people to sit under and several groups of people walking around. Past the garden, he could make out what looked like a pond or a small lake.

"Dr. Phillips should be in shortly."

The assistant startled Ron out of his daze.

"Take a seat and fill in as much as you can. And welcome, to Passages Ventura."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

Ron sat down in one of the plush over-sized stuff chairs in front of the desk. He set the paper work on his lap and started shifting through the pages.

Name. Ronald Weasley. Easy enough. Date of Birth. Gender. Address. The first page was full of simple basic questions which he got through without any problems. He flipped to the second page.

What brings you to Passages?

Ron stopped. He couldn't breathe. His head started to feel dizzy. This was a mistake. He couldn't do this. He needed to get out now. He dropped the clip board onto the desk, picked up his rucsack, and walked towards the door. Just as he reached for the handle, the door opened.

"Hello Ronald."

Ron stopped in his tracks. The doctor looked him up and down. He noticed the unfinished paperwork on his desk and the anxiousness in Ron's eyes.

"I'm Dr. Christian Phillips." He stuck his hand out to Ron.

For a moment, Ron just stared at Dr. Phillips' hand. He was trying to remember what he was supposed to do. His mind was still fuzzy. He couldn't think. After what felt like forever, Ron stuck his hand out to shake Dr. Phillips' hand.

"Well, why don't we have a seat."

With Dr. Phillips still blocking the doorway, Ron had no other option then to turn around and sit back down in the seat he had just vacated. With a thud, he dropped his bag back to the floor.

Dr. Phillips walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down in his chair. He picked up Ron's unfinished paperwork.

"Well, let's see."

As Dr. Phillips began to read through Ron's paperwork, Ron began to fidget. He started to study Dr. Phillips as a way of distraction. He was an older gentleman. Maybe not quite as old as his father; but still at least in his late forties. He looked about 5'10" with thinning brown hair and hints of grey on the sides. He also looked as though he made an effort to keep fit. He didn't look overweight. He had a five o'clock shadow though it couldn't possibly be later than 10:30 in the morning. He also had very dark eyes that stood out, almost oddly, against his pale skin.

Ron watched as Dr. Phillips's eyes ran back and forth over the paperwork he had just filled out.

"Well Ronald…"

"Ron." Ron interrupted.

"Ron. I see you got through the first page just fine. Since the second page is blank, I can only assume I walked in just as you were about to begin. So, let's start there, shall we."

Dr. Phillips had a very low, soothing voice, though it sounded commanding at the same time without making Ron feel as if it were an order. More of a question.

"I…um…actually…um…" Ron was fidgeting again. His hands wouldn't keep still and he was staring at this feet.

"Ron."

Ron looked up.

"You don't have to say anything you aren't ready to say."

Ron was starting to sweat. He could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead and rolling down the back of his neck. His foot bounced up and down of its own accord. He raked a hand through his long fiery red hair. Then, he reached down to scratch his beard. Why had he let that grow out? It was itchy and hot.

"How about we do this." Ron immediately stopped fidgeting. Dr. Phillips voice reminded him he was not alone.

"Let's take you through your…"

"Idon'twanttobehere." Ron blurted the words out. He didn't wait for the doctor to finish speaking. He stood, grabbed his rucksack from the floor, and turned to leave.

"Why not?"

Ron stopped and turned back around to look at the doctor.

"Why not?", Ron repeated.

"Yes, Ron. Why not?"

Dr. Phillips stood up from his chair and came around to the front of his desk. He leaned back against it, sitting on the edge and casually crossed one foot over the other.

"If you don't want to be here, I won't make you stay. I have no authority to make you stay. But, I would like to know why you don't want to be here."

Ron stood still. He wasn't sure what to say. His hands were shaking. _Merlin…when was the last time I had a drink…or a fix. _ He couldn't think. This was too much pressure. He needed a drink. He needed to forget; to go back into that hole where everything was black and the days would just pass by in a blur.

"When was the last time you had a drink Ron?"

He looked up at the doctor. _Was he a Legilimens? Or did muggles have people that could read minds?_

"Your hands are shaking uncontrollably," the doctor began to speak again. "You have not been able to stand still for more than a few seconds. You've switched your bag back and forth between each shoulder several times. And you're drenched in sweat even though it is a cool 68 degrees here in my office."

Rod didn't know what to say. He was staring at the doctor, mouth agape. He picked up on all that in the few minutes Ron had been in his office? As an Auror, Ron was impressed.

"I can see you are impressed." Dr. Phillips chuckled. "I am a doctor. I'm supposed to see these things. Plus, this is a rehabilitation center for addicts. The alcohol was just a guess since it is the most common."

Ron still didn't know what to say. So, he thought…honesty.

"This morning…8 am. After I left the Min…the airport, I went straight to the nearest pub."

It had technically been 4pm his time. The portkey took him from the Ministry in London straight to the Ministry in California. He was still on London time. It wasn't his fault California was eight hours behind.

The small dingy pub just outside the California Ministry, The Iron Man, was just what Ron was looking for. Harry had kept an eye on him all day since he was the only one that knew Ron was leaving; he just didn't know to where. So, he hadn't let Ron have a drink all day.

Ron consumed an entire bottle of firewhiskey in less than half an hour alone at that pub. Ron had consumed so much liquor, his body was almost immune. Which is why he was still sober; and in desperate need of more.

"Well, I guess that answers why you came here in the first place. But now you want to leave."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I don't want to be here. I've changed my mind."

"When?"

"When what?"

"When did you change your mind?"

Ron wasn't sure what to say. When did he change his mind?

"Obviously at some point you thought you should be here." The doctor kept a steady gaze on him. "You are a self check-in, correct?"

"Yes."

"So, you came here of your own free will."

"Yes."

"And now you have changed your mind."

"Yes."

"Why?"

This doctor was going to drive Ron mental. Couldn't he see his questions were starting to irritate him? Ron couldn't think with the doctor talking so quickly. It felt like he was talking in circles.

"I don't know." Ron didn't have an answer.

"Okay. Can I ask you one more question before you leave?"

Ron though about it. "Only one more?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

"When you thought you needed to be here, what was your reason?"

Ron was quiet. He wasn't quite sure he could answer that question.

"I mean, before you changed your mind. When you first thought…'I should go. I should be there. ' What was your reason for coming here?"

Ron stood thinking.

_What was the reason again? What did I say to Harry when I told him I was going to go away for a little while?_

Ron closed his eyes. The fog slowly started to life from his head. He could see it almost completely clear now. There it is. Tiny. Fair skin. Red bushy hair. Bright blue eyes. And a smile only for him.

"Rose."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

Dr. Phillips and Ron completed his paperwork there in his office. Once Ron said Rose's name, it took all the control he had to not break down.

After the paperwork was completed, Dr. Phillips took him downstairs to a small exam room where he was given a physical. Then he took Ron back upstairs to another office adjacent to his where he and Mrs. Stevenson searched his rucksack. They did not let him keep his razor (he could try to cut himself), his pocket knife (a gift from Harry they promised they would return once he completed the program) or the picture frames (since there was glass in them).

As Ron followed Dr. Phillips up three flights of stairs, he explained some of the rules all patients must follow at Passages.

The first two weeks he would room alone. This was for detox. He was not required to attend any sessions for those first two weeks but was required to attend all meals with all other patience in the cafeteria. He would be assigned his own Orderly for those two weeks to help him through detox and his Psychiatrist would come by and check up on him periodically.

After detox, he would be assigned a room with a roommate. And, he would begin group therapy sessions three times a week for two weeks. Group therapy sessions lasted two hours and were twice a day; once after breakfast from 8:30a.m to 10:30am and once an hour after lunch from 2:00pm to 4:00pm.

He would see his psychiatrist daily between morning group session and lunchtime (10:30am to 11:30am). On the days he didn't have group session, he would attend a self-improvement class of his choice; and there was a lot of classes to choose from. He could change self-improvement classes at any time.

After the evening group session, or self-improvement class, was journal entry time from 4:30pm to 5:30pm. All patients were required to keep a journal. No one would be allowed to read it; but the psychiatrist would verify you were writing in it.

Patients were not allowed visitors the first four weeks they were there. And no patient was allowed out the front door unaccompanied for any reason. You were allowed to roam the gardens at any time until lights out. All patients were given free liberty on weekends to do as they pleased within the center, but were still required to have at least one hour each weekend day for journal entry.

After Ron makes it through the first four weeks, he would be given his new schedule, he was told.

So, now, here he was. In his room alone. It looked more like a jail cell. Gray walls all around; a small window with bars on the outside. A twin size bed pushed to a corner up against the wall furthest from the door. He could already tell it was going to be too short. And a small three drawer dresser with a lamp atop it next to his bed.

_Well this is depressing. _

The light gave off a hideous yellow glow to the room which did nothing for the gray walls. Even the sheets and the pillow on the bed looked uninviting.

Ron removed his wand from his holster he had around his wrist. It was Ministry standard for all Aurors. Once your wand was placed in the holster, the holster and wand would become invisible. Ron's name was engraved onto his leather holster along with the Chudley Cannons logo as a gift from…

_Merlin I need a drink._

Ron placed his wand and holster beneath his pillow and flopped onto the bed. He covered his eyes with his arm hoping to block out what little sunlight was coming through the window.

"Knock. Knock."

Ron bolted upright and had to stop himself from pulling out his wand due to reflexes.

"Hello."

"Hi."

"I'm Bradley. I'll be your orderly through detox."

"Ron Weasley."

"Nice to meet you Ron," Bradley shook Ron's hand. "Where are you from?"

"London."

"Ah. That's right. British accent. Well, you are a long way from home."

"Yeah."

"Well, it's lunchtime. Let's go down to the café and get you some food."

Ron followed Bradley down one flight of stairs.

"The cafeteria is on the second floor."

It didn't take long for the smells of food to reach Ron's nose. He had not realized just how hungry he was. Or that he'd been up for fourteen hours straight.

"The food isn't too bad. Not a five star restaurant; but it's edible."

Bradley led Ron over to a buffet table. There was salad to pick from; ham, chicken or sausage; several different vegetables, dessert and drinks at the end of the table. It didn't smell anything like his Mum's cooking. After staring for a few minutes, Ron settled on a garden salad, with baked chicken, greens, and something that looked like apple tart. He poured himself one of those tasty muggle fizzy drinks called Cola.

Bradley and Ron walked over to an empty round table. The clock on the wall said half noon. Lunchtime was almost over; that would explain the almost empty room.

"So, when did you arrive?"

"Just this morning. A couple of hours ago."

"What do you think of California so far?"

Ron was not interested in small talk. He wanted to eat and get back to his room to sleep for the rest of the day.

" 's alright."

"Is this your first time to the US?"

"Yup."

"How did you travel?"

"Port…um…plane."

"Are you homesick yet?"

Ron's fork stopped mid-air. _Homesick._ He really hadn't thought about home since he had arrived. He didn't want to let his mind wander back to home. It would be too much for him to handle. Ron started sweating again. All of a sudden he wasn't feeling to well.

"Are you alright?"

Ron looked up. He saw a man sitting right in front of him. His lips were moving, like he was talking to Ron; but Ron couldn't make out anything he was saying. It sounded like he was underwater.

"You don't look so good."

"I'm not feeling well," Ron stood up so quickly, he knocked his chair over backwards. He ran towards the nearest exit doors. He'd barely made it out the door and up one flight of stairs when he fell to his knees and starting retching everything he had just consumed right there in the middle of the hallway.

He must have vomited for what felt like hours. His stomach was emptied completely. He felt pressure on his shoulder. When he looked up he saw Bradley standing over him.

"C'mon. Let's get you to your room. I'll get a custodian to come clean this up."

Bradley grabbed Ron under his arm and pulled him to his feet. Ron could barely make his legs move. Once they reached his room, Bradley dropped Ron onto his bed and left the room.

Ron groaned. _Ohh._ He rolled onto his stomach, pulled his pillow over his head and promptly fell asleep.

**Author's Note: Please read and review. Sorry for the delay. But I've got the next 2 chapters written and will be uploading them both immediately.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5.**

**Tuesday, January 27, 2004**

Ron's first week past with little to no excitement. Unless you call his constant puking, regardless if he had consumed anything that day or not, exciting. There were times he felt that his stomach was going to come up too.

Each time he rolled over on his bed to retch over the side, Bradley was there with a trash can. Every time he crawled across the floor to his bathroom, Bradley was there to hold him up over the toilet. All the times he didn't make it to either, Bradley was there to clean him up, clean up the mess, and put him and his bed in clean clothes and fresh sheets.

There were times Ron shook all night long. He couldn't get his body to stay still. He would pull on his hair to the point he would yank some out. He'd scratch at his skin 'til it was raw and he had nail marks up and down his arms. He wanted the pain to go away. He would sweat all day and night. One night, Bradley ran in and held him down to the ground to get Ron to stop punching the brick walls. The damage was already done; his knuckles torn open and bloodied. Bradley cleaned him up and bandaged up his hand. After that night, Ron was not allowed to keep his door closed while he slept.

Eight days. Eight days and eight nights had passed, with Ron making no sense of it, when Ron finally woke up in the morning after the first full night of no retching.

Ron's eyes blinked slowly to adjust to light coming in through his window. When everything came into focus, he didn't recognize where he was. He slowly sat up in his bed and saw someone sitting on a chair that was holding the room door open.

_Oh yes. I remember now._

Bradley was sitting in what seemed an uncomfortable metal chair reading a comic book, it looked like. Ron had not realized just how large Bradley was until now. Ron always considered himself a fairly large man. He had finally stopped growing at 6'5" and all his work as an Auror had defined his muscles in his arms, chest and abs. His legs were long and that made him a great runner.

But Bradley! Bradley was massive! He looked to be at least 3 or 4 inches taller than Ron and twice Ron's size in bulk. He was not overweight by any means. No. Bradley had large muscles on his arms and across his chest. He was a black man with dark black hair and a thick dark black mustache on his top lip.

"Morning."

"Ah. Ron. You are awake. That's good."

"What day is it?"

"Tuesday. The 27th."

"Bloody hell."

"Yeah. You've been out of it for a little while. That's what detox does to you. But last night was a good night, yes?"

"Yeah."

"How about some breakfast? It's only 8. They'll be serving for another half hour."

"Sure. Alright. Um…let me take a quick shower first. Get cleaned up. I feel like I'm covered in sweat. Like I slept in a fuckin' sauna or something."

"Sure. Go ahead. Leave the door open."

"Right."

Ron grabbed a clean jumper, pants and boxers from his top drawer and walked to his bathroom. He turned the water on to the hottest temperature, quickly stripped down and got in. The scolding hot water felt good against his skin. He cleaned himself up quickly and got dressed. When Ron stepped out of the bathroom, Bradley was still in the same metal chair.

"C'mon then. Let's go."

Ron and Bradley walked down to the cafeteria. Ron chose a light breakfast. Since it had been eight days since he last ate, he didn't want anything that might make him sick.

"So, what's the CC stand for?"

"Wha?"

"Your tattoo on your wrist. The CC."

Ron glanced down to his wrist. The tattoo was made of the letters CC with a flaming canon racing through them.

"Oh. My favorite team in London. It's their logo."

"Ah. What sport?"

"Oh…uh…I guess it's kinda like football. You know. We have goals and balls…," he really didn't know what else he could say without sounding suspicious.

The rest of breakfast was filled with light conversation. Bradley didn't want to trigger any episodes from Ron. And Ron was greatful. Bradley had been there for Ron all week. He had seen Ron at his absolute worse. Not even Harry had seen him like that. Sure Harry had seen him so drunk and high that he was completely incapacitated and couldn't even remember his own name. But, he had never seen Ron trying to survive without being drunk or high.

"Since you seem to be feeling well, how about we take a tour of the area outside?"

"Sounds good."

Ron followed Bradley down the stairs and to a set of double doors located directly behind the secretary desk he was at a week ago. They pushed though the double doors and walked out.

Ron had to close his eyes as they walked out. The sun was so bright, it was almost blinding. He'd never seen it that bright outside before. It was always gloomy and dank in Devon. The sun hardly shown at all.

"What d'ya think?"

Ron blinked a few times to refocus his eyesight against the bright sun. The grounds were massive. It looked like it stretched out for miles. It was covered with huge oak trees that shaded picnic tables, benches and groups of people as they sat down on blankets on the ground. There was a grand fountain in the middle of the grounds with a muggle mermaid spraying water from her mouth. He could see off to the left what looked like a rose garden. And to the right, a small maze made of bushes about waist high. Any higher and it would have reminded him of the final task in the Tri-Wizard tournament.

"Nice. It's big."

"Yup. It's a good place to walk around and clear your head."

Ron nodded.

"You wanna go for a walk?"

Ron thought it was nice enough for a walk. "Sure."

Bradley and Ron walked down the steps of the back porch and started towards the rose garden. It seemed as though it was pulling Ron in that direction.

"So, who's Herman?"

Ron stopped in his tracks and turned around to look at Bradley. "What?"

"Herman. Or was it He-man…I don't know. You repeated it over and over when you were detoxing, but it was kind of garbled. Some nights, you said it all night long."

Ron couldn't breathe. _No. I couldn't have possibly said her name. _Ron could feel his skin starting to sweat again. _No. This just can't be right. Bloody hell…Hermione._


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: This chapter is a reason for the M rating. The M rating will begin at the "Flashback". **

**Chapter 6.**

_Hermione._

Ron hadn't thought about Hermione while he was sober in…well, he really couldn't remember the last time he actually was sober, much less thought about her with a clear, coherent mind. And he wasn't about to start now.

"Y'know. I'm really tired. I think I'm going to go back up to my room."

Before Bradley could respond, Ron had turned around and started jogging, almost running, back up the stairs to the porch and back into the building. He took the stairs two steps at a time to try and get back to his bedroom as quickly as he could.

When he got to his room, he laid down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling.

_Bloody hell. Hermione._

Ron had stopped thinking about here once he started being drunk and high all day. That was over 2 years ago. He couldn't stand the pain of picturing her in his mind and then realizing again that she was gone. Thus the reason for his constant need to be incoherent on drugs or alcohol.

But now. Now he was sober. He hadn't had a drink in eight days. No fix. And he was in desperate need of one now. Could he still remember here? Would he still see her when he closed his eyes? Obviously he still thought about her subconsciously if Bradley heard him saying her name.

Ron slowly closed his eyes.

**Flashback.**

"_Ron," she whispered his name in his ear as Ron hovered over her._

_He pulled himself up to his elbows and took in the sight beneath him. Her bushy brown hair was fanned out on the pillow like a halo around her face. Her cheeks were flushed pink beautifully. There was a thin layer of sheer sweat on her forehead. And her eyes. Brown eyes like chocolate with a gaze filled with love and lust. Ron could get lost in her eyes. As he pumped in and out of her, he couldn't remove his eyes from her face._

_She felt so good wrapped around him. So tight and wet and slick with need and love just for him. No one else. He could see that same need and love when he looked into her eyes. _

"_Oh Rooon…feels so good." She closed her eyes and threw her head back as she arched into him, pushing her breast up to his face._

_Ron took one of the rosy read tips into his mouth greedily and sucked and nipped. He knew she was close. And he wanted to hear her scream. He snaked one hand down between their bodies till he reached her nub and started rubbing it between two fingers. As he made one last final thrust, he bit down on her tip and pinched her clit between his fingers. She screamed his name as she tightened and constricted around his dick. As her orgasm shook her, he spilled himself into her. Growling her name through gritted teeth._

_He slowed down his ministrations letting her ride out her orgasm until she released a contended sigh. His now limp dick fell out of her and she whimpered at the emptiness she felt as he was no longer in her._

_He rolled off her onto his back pulling her with him to his side; their sweaty bodies' slick against each other. She tangled her legs with his and rested her head on his chest. He felt her breathing slow down and new she was asleep._

**End Flashback.**

Ron slowly opened his eyes. He couldn't believe it. He saw her face. He remembered her scent. The way she felt wrapped in his arms. The daydream felt so real. Like it was yesterday.

A soft knock on his door brought him out of his daze. He sat up and wiped his eyes, not sure when he started crying.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes."

"I'm Dr. Brian Reynolds. Your assigned Psychiatrist. Bradley came by to let me know you were awake. So I'd thought I'd come and see how you were doing. How are you feeling today?"

"Fine."

"That's good. No nausea?"

"No."

"Good."

Dr. Reynolds sat down in Bradley's chair. Ron wasn't sure what to think of him. He looked young. Real young. Ron wanted to ask him has age. He looked younger then Ron did. Though he supposed it was because he looked much older than his 26 years. Everything he'd been through had aged him rapidly.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions to get to know you a little better."

"I thought I didn't have to start talking to you until after my two weeks of detox." Ron didn't mean for it to come out in an accusing tone; but he really didn't want to talk to anyone with Hermione's memory still fresh in his mind.

"Well, yes; that is true. I just wanted to ask some basic questions about yourself."

"Isn't all that in the paperwork I filled out?" Ron was starting to get irritated with this man. His knee was bouncing up and down. And he couldn't seem to sit still. He stood up from the bed. The doctor immediately stood up also and took an involuntary step back towards the door.

Ron took in the doctors stature. He was shorter then Ron by at least half a foot if not more. He had wavy brown hair that he brushed to the side. He didn't look small; but not big either. He looked like your average everyday bloke.

"How old are you?" Ron finally asked. "You don't look old enough to be a medi…a doctor."

"I am."

Ron just continue to stare down at the man.

Dr. Reynolds sighed. "I'm 26. I completed my internship at St. Francis Hospital for Children in Orlando as a Child Psychiatrist and received my doctorate 2 months ago."

Ron just continued to stare at him._ Twenty-six. 26!_ He was going to be treated by a kid! What was this bloke going to help him with? Ron needed someone with experience; someone who had actually been alive for some time.

Dr. Reynolds must have noticed Ron's doubt about his capabilities as a Psychiatrist.

"I assure you Ron I am very capable of doing my job. I know you must think I don't have much life experience because of my age; but if you will give me a chance, I will be able to show you I can help you."

Ron still wasn't sure. He just couldn't fathom how this bloke was going to help him through his issues.

"Tell you what. You still have six days of detox before you have to officially speak with a psychiatrist. How about you and I meet, everyday, for these last six days. No wait." Ron was about to open his mouth to protest.

"Let me finish. We'll meet. Everyday. For fifteen minutes. Out in the courtyard. Say…after lunch. And play a game. Chess?"

At this Ron's eyes slightly lit up.

"You don't have to talk to me. I won't ask any questions. But, you can ask me any question you like. And I will always answer truthfully and honestly. If after these six days are up, and you still are hesitant, I will talk to Dr. Phillips and have another Psychiatrist assigned to you."

Ron thought about it. Dr. Reynolds could see him weighing his options. Pros and cons. Almost like he was making a mental list.

"What do you say? You play chess?"

"Yeah."

"Great. It's set then, yes?"

"Yeah…okay," Ron gave in.

"Alright. I'll see you tomorrow. One o'clock. In the courtyard."

"Alright."

"Have a good rest of the day Mr. Weasley."

"Ron. You can call me Ron."

"Ron. Goodbye."

Ron just nodded his head. Dr. Reynolds turned and left the room leaving Ron alone once again with his memory. Ron fell back on his bed and covered his eyes. He decided he had time to catch a nap and hope that he could keep the memories of Hermione away. He did not want to remember. Not yet.


End file.
